


Cornelia Street

by BlurglesmurfKlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, I regret nothing and everything, M/M, Sort Of, quarantined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlurglesmurfKlaine/pseuds/BlurglesmurfKlaine
Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Sam Evans/Mercedes Jones
Comments: 123
Kudos: 249





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: oh my god they were quarantined 
> 
> yes. It’s one of those fics. 
> 
> AU, obvs
> 
> I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go
> 
> Title is from T-swizzle's Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

After jamming his shoulder against the edge of the door for what must be the tenth time, Kurt finally manages to budge it open.

He steps into the apartment—216, The Point Living Complex, on Cornelia Street—dragging behind him as much luggage as he could take with him when the school officials came to hurry him out of his dorm room. The fact that he still has to pay tuition and board for the rest of the semester even though there’s a high possibility he might not get to go back is utterly ridiculous.

This outbreak is wild and unreal and honestly even a little scary, but God bless Mercedes Jones, angel that she is. Kurt had called her in a panic when he’d been ushered out of his dorm. She knows the whole deal on why he can’t go home right now, and immediately offered her and Sam’s place up, since they had both evacuated back home to Ohio.

A faint rustling sound coming from the only bedroom catches his attention, and he’s immediately on alert. It’s possible that someone else looking for a place to stay broke in. Kurt swallows down his racing heart and clutches the spare key so that it sticks out between his knuckles.

Slowly, carefully, he creeps down the hall, not wanting to alert the intruder to his presence. He’s about to grab the doorknob to the bedroom when the door swings away from him.

The vaguely familiar looking curly haired guy behind the door drops his bowl of cereal, letting it clatter against the floor, before letting out a startled yelp.

Kurt responds with a scream of his own because he certainly wasn’t expecting to see someone in their boxers eating cereal in his best friend’s apartment.

“What the hell are you doing here, Kurt!?” The shorter one of them asks in a panic.

It takes a second, but when the initial shock clears up, Kurt finally recognizes his fellow NYADA student and—oh god, this could not get any worse, could it?

The one person he’s run into in days and it’s Blaine _Disaster Date_ Anderson? He’s managed to avoid him well enough after their catastrophe of a first date three years ago, but _now_ he runs into him?

He huffs, remembering to respond to Blaine. “As you know, the NYADA dorms are shut down. Mercedes said I could crash here,” he narrows his eyes at him. “What are _you_ doing here.”

Blaine’s jaw drops, and they apparently come to the same realization at the same time. Sam and Blaine have been besties since high school (a fancy-pants boarding school, Kurt remembers with an eye roll), he and Mercedes are the ones who set them up in the first place. 

Blaine is self-quarantined here too.

“No,” Kurt murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh, god, no.” He buries his face in his hands. “Anybody else, it could have been _anybody_ else.” Well, not anybody else. He supposes it could be worse; he could still be living with Adam.

Blaine scoffs. “Listen, I’m not too happy about this situation either. I didn’t know I’d be having a roommate for this crisis, and I certainly didn’t think it’d be you.”

“Whatever,” Kurt says dismissively. “It’s been a long day, I just want to shower and go to sleep—” with a groan, he remembers another glaringly obvious complication: there’s only one room, one bed. He sighs. “Since there’s only one bed, I guess we can just switch off. One day you, one day me, and the other will sleep on the couch.”

Blaine thinks it over for a moment, squinting his eyes in thought. “Or, since I got here first, I’ll take the bed, and you can take the couch indefinitely,” he says. He wrinkles his nose and gives a phony smile before shutting the door in Kurt’s face. 

Kurt hears the lock click into place and gapes for a second. He goes up to the door and starts banging on it, yelling, “Hey, that’s not fair, you _dickwad!”_

All he gets is a muffled, “I can’t hear you!” in response.

Kurt lets out a frustrated grunt.

Blaine Anderson is going to be the death of him, that is, if the coronavirus doesn’t take him first.  
  


* * *

  
Blaine is absolutely certain that Kurt Hummel will bring about his demise, unless the damned covid-19 gets him first.

Their first night together had gone about as well as expected, and any regrets Blaine might’ve had three years ago about their failed date were completely squandered.

The morning doesn’t go any better.

Kurt’s frivolous morning skin-care routine takes an inordinate amount of time, and Blaine spends the better part of an hour holding in his pee and banging on the bathroom door, begging the other boy to _please for the love of god let him in._

Now, they’re begrudgingly and silently crunching on some cereal—the only food available—when Kurt finally speaks up.

“Okay, so... we can’t live on Cookie Crisps forever,” Kurt says through a mouthful of them.

“Says you,” Blaine mutters. “What’s the alternative? Going to a grocery store? Have you _seen_ the news? It’s a madhouse in those.”

“We can make a list, be quick, in and out.”

“I’m not quite sure you’re getting how this social distancing thing is supposed to work,” he says, bite in his voice.

Kurt huffs and narrows his eyes. “Believe me, I know how crucial it is... but if you and I get infected, we’ll be fine. We’re young and healthy. We just need to stay away from others who aren’t as lucky as us. As long as we stay in here after being exposed, we’re good because we’re not putting people like them in danger.”

Blaine stares at Kurt, mildly impressed. Many of Blaine’s own friends had thought he was being dramatic for not wanting to go home, that he was giving in to the panic of it all. Kurt seems to be taking it just as seriously as he is.

“Look, we don’t even have to be near each other after this. I’ll stay in the living room and you stay in the master... but it’s better we go out now rather than wait until there’s even less stock in the stores.”

The cereal—that Blaine also had for dinner last night—sitting in his unsatisfied stomach plays a big part in convincing him to go along with Kurt’s plan. He might be irritating as hell, but he’s got a level head.

“Alright,” he finally concedes. “Let’s get started on that list.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, is there a reason you didn’t tell me Kurt Hummel would be staying at your apartment, too?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam says on the other end of the line. Blaine can see through the face-time app that his mouth is full of… something. “I always thought you two would make a great couple, why do you think I tried to set you guys up all those years ago?”

“MmmHmm, and then continued to try and set us up time and time again when we refused to see each other.”

“Point taken… Anyways, I was thinking that it would be such like a, like a—” he lolls his head over to look at Mercedes. “Hey babe, what’s it called when two people meet in like a really cute way?”

She doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “Meet-cute,” she says flatly.

“A meet-cute!”

“The thing is, we already met,” Blaine points out. “And it was definitely  _ not _ cute.”

“I know you were upset, man, but you  _ did _ peace out halfway through dinner.”

“Yeah, but Kurt is the one who definitely checked out first, so I have no guilt over that.”

Sam goes quiet for a moment. “Okay, real talk, you guys don’t even have to get along, but you  _ do _ have to at least tolerate each other for a while. Maybe even try and get to know each other. You’re both musicians, that’s something! We’ve got a piano, I bet you guys could have all sorts of fun.”

Blaine snorts. “I guarantee you, the last thing this situation is is  _ fun.” _

* * *

“Mercedes Jones, you have the voice of an angel and the mind of a devil, please tell me why on  _ earth _ I’m sharing an apartment with Blaine Anderson?”

“Because I  _ know _ you, Kurt,” she says bluntly. “You’re one of the most stubborn people I know, and if I had told you, you probably would’ve gone out into the streets to fend for yourself. Or worse, gone back to stay with Adam.”

Kurt scoffs. “Trust me, never going back there again.”

“I know going home isn’t really an option for you at the moment, and I wasn’t about to let you deny my offer. Besides, Blaine is a nice guy.”

“Says you,” he huffs. “In my experience, nice guys don’t ditch you halfway through a date.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, I know. I’m not saying you two need to go out—”

“Well, going  _ out _ really isn’t an option right now.”

“You’re hilarious,” she deadpans. “I’m just saying you have to get along for the time being. Cohabitate.”

Kurt lets out a breath of air that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh. 


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt has the art of avoiding someone he’s sharing a confined space with down to an _art._ Blaine stays in the bedroom most of the time and the morning stiffness in Kurt’s joints from sleeping on the couch is well worth not having to interact with his roomie. He spends the first few days decompressing from the stressload of his schoolwork, social media, extra pampering, the usual.

This is enough to keep him entertained for a few days, but the first few hours of day four drag on like molasses. 

Kurt lies on the couch, flippantly scrolling and cycling through the same social media apps over and over again until he’s seen every tweet, every snapchat story, and every. Single. Facebook. Post.

This routine is fine when he has a full and busy life, but it can’t be _all_ he does. He’s going stir crazy.

It’s this boredom, he tells himself, that motivates him to knock on the bedroom door. Because he’s a generally social person, and he’s certain that even the likes of Blaine Anderson could offer him some temporary entertainment.

“The living room TV doesn’t come with Netflix,” he explains when a confused Blaine opens the door. “And my social media feed is dry, so you can either let me in on whatever you’re watching, or you can deal with the consequences of not doing that. I should let you know, I have a brother, and I can be _very_ annoying.”

Blaine hums, looking Kurt up and down. “I also have a brother who can be ridiculously annoying, so I suppose I can’t risk it.” He speaks carefully, but Kurt has a sneaking suspicion that Blaine’s just as out of his mind bored as he is and would appreciate the company. 

He opens the door wider to allow Kurt passage in the room. 

Blaine moves towards the bed, where he’s clearly made some sort of quarantine nest for himself—the blanket is puddled near the head of the bed where Blaine was lying, a few books scattered by where his feet would have been, a bowl of half eaten ramen abandoned on the nightstand. 

Kurt… doesn’t quite know what to do. He starts for the computer chair by the desk, but Blaine waves him away. “You can just sit next to me,” he says dismissively. “That’s Sam’s gaming chair, and it is just absolutely hell on your lower back. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

He raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms. “Is that what I am to you?”

Blaine looks at him like he’s genuinely surprised by the remark. “What? I… No. Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Look, Kurt, I know we have a weird history and we don’t particularly get along, but I don’t hate you.”

Kurt eyes Blaine up and down for a second, assessing him for any signs of deceit. He finds none, pulls the cover back and slides underneath it. “What are you watching?”

“Let It Snow. It’s a Netflix Original. It just started, do you want me to rewind it?”

Kurt waves a hand. “No, that’s fine.”

On screen, two teens are trudging through the snow towards a building with AFFLE TOWN on top of it. 

_“If the train made you feel real, Waffle Town is gonna blow your mind.”_

In the movie, the cheerleader character kisses the other main red-headed girl in the bathroom, but acts like nothing happened when the rest of the squad comes in. 

“Oh, she’s totally not out of the closet yet.” Blaine murmurs. 

“What? But she said she was, at the beginning.”

“I mean, yeah, but there has to be some sort of twist.”

“Hm. Seems like you have this movie all figured out.”

“I mean, movies like this are supposed to be predictable on some level. Let’s be real, we watch these movies because no matter what happens, no matter what misunderstanding there is, you know everything’s going to be okay.” He looks at Kurt, and Kurt’s heart does not skip a beat. But objectively speaking, Blaine is ridiculously adorable, and maybe he has a teeny tiny reaction when Blaine says, “You know that the right people will end up with each other.”

About twenty more minutes in, all the different storylines have been introduced and Kurt realizes why this movie seems so familiar. “Oh my god,” he says. “This is totally just a teen version of Love, Actually.”

Blaine chuckles. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

They both laugh out loud at the end, when the crappy best friend realizes she’s been crappy and gives the red-head a little speech. 

_“If you and Beyonce were trapped in a house that was on fire and I could only save one of you… I would let Beyonce die.”_

The movie draws to a close and Blaine leans back against the pillows, obviously satisfied with the ending. “See? Happy endings rule. They’re a little cheesy, a little predictable, but that’s what I like about them.”

Kurt smiles and looks over at Blaine. “Yeah, me, too.”

* * *

When the movie ends, Blaine excuses himself for a moment to go grab a drink from the kitchen.

When he finishes his glass of water, Blaine heads to the hall closet, clamoring around for that stash of board games Sam keeps for game nights. He finally finds it and grins a bit, pulling out Battleship. This should keep them entertained for a while.

He stops dead in his tracks, just outside the room, when he hears Kurt in a heated conversation on the phone. “No, Adam. I meant it, this time. We’re over… I _know_ there’s a national crisis right now, that’s why I’m at—don’t… stop… will you let me—! You _always_ do this! _Stop_ talking over me! Oh my god, if you’re not going to listen, then this conversation is over.”

Blaine silently backtracks a few steps when he hears Kurt sniff, then after a minute or two, starts walking again, making sure to slap his bare feet against the hardwood floor so that Kurt hears him coming and can take a second to compose himself. He rattles the battleship game for extra measure and says loudly down the hallway, “So I found this battleship game in the closet, thought it might be a good way to pass the time.”

Kurt still looks a little lost in thought by the time Blaine is back in the bedroom. “Uh, sure, yeah. Why not,” he mindlessly agrees.

It takes them a few minutes to set everything up and figure out logistics. As a gesture of goodwill, Blaine insists that they both sit on the bed for this activity. He still feels a little bad for… whatever Kurt is going through right now. 

They’re well into the game when Blaine decides to tug a little more on the thread that will unravel Kurt Hummel.

“J1,” Kurt grumbles.

“Miss,” Blaine responds. “So… I thought I might’ve heard you on the phone earlier,” he says, and Kurt’s hard gaze pierces through him. “Everything okay?”

“Why do you care?” Kurt snaps.

Blaine felt his own defenses rising up. “We are going to be stuck with each other for days on end, so excuse me for trying to be a decent person.”

Kurt de-bristles himself. “Sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Sorry… I um… my ex is trying to get me to go stay with him. But I know he’s just going to rope me into getting back together again and I just… I’m done. Sorry,” he repeats, lifting his knees and wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says, mouth twitching. “We’ll chalk it up to social distancing. Speaking of, I know why I’m self-quarantined, why are you? If you don’t mind me asking. Why not go home like everyone else? B4.”

Kurt sighs. “Hit. My dad had a heart attack back in high school. Left him in a coma for a while. Then he had a cancer scare last year, so his immune system isn’t the strongest. I can’t risk taking anything back to him. J2.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… Hit.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“C4. Kind of the same thing. My aunt has lived with us pretty much my entire life. She’s pretty much my second mom. She’s diabetic, and a year ago she needed a kidney transplant. If she even gets so much as a cold, it could mess with her anti-rejection meds.”

He doesn’t get a response for a while and Blaine looks up to find Kurt staring at him. The other boy blinks, like he himself has just noticed his fixed gaze. 

“Um, hit…” he says, looking back down at his board. Blaine thinks he might see a hint of a blush crawling up Kurt’s neck. “J3.”

“Miss.”

“Miss? That’s impossible. J1 and I2 were misses.” Kurt snaps his head up, narrowing his eyes at Blaine, but there’s a playful light that wasn’t there earlier. “Are you cheating?”

“Maybe,” he teases, evading the question because it actually is a hit. In fact, it’s the winning move. “Maybe I just don’t want this game to be over so soon.”

For a moment, Blaine wonders if his comment was too close to flirtatious territory. But then he thinks, so what if it is? There was a reason he agreed to be set up with Kurt freshman year, and after half a conversation with him, Blaine is definitely intrigued, to say the least.

Kurt’s lips curl up into a smile. “Alright… I don’t want to go back to being bored either, so how about this? We each move one of the small pieces and the first one to get a hit wins.”

Blaine agrees, taking one of his small pieces off and moving it.

“I’ll start us off,” Kurt says. “You mentioned you had a brother. What about the rest of your family? A6.”

“Miss. I’ve only got the one, thank god, because he is a handful. My mom is a total goofball, gives the best advice. I love her to death. My dad is the essence of I hate everything except my family. He can be a total grump sometimes, but I know he’d do anything for us. G7. You?”

“Miss. I mentioned my dad. My mom passed away when I was eight.” Blaine’s eyes glaze over with sympathy. “She was… she was really something. I miss her everyday, but I’m also really grateful that my dad found someone as wonderful as my step-mom. They got married my Junior year of high school, and I got a brother out of it. He drives me up the wall sometimes, but I love the big lug.”

Kurt tells Blaine all about the ridiculousness of his high school show choir, his relationship with his dad, and the bullying he endured in high school. In turn, Blaine confesses some insecurities he has about being a musical theatre major, about how he absolutely adores his kooky aunt, and his love for harry potter.

The game takes longer to finish than it should since occasionally they get so deep into conversation that they forget about playing the game. Eventually, it’s nearly two am, and Kurt decides to call it quits.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m calling it. I’m never gonna fund that darn ship of yours.”

“You’re right about that,” Blaine agrees. Kurt had actually hit his piece about three turns in, but again… Blaine wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

Kurt snorts out a laugh and rises from the he’d, stretching his arms high over his head. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he groans.

Blaine has no idea what compels him to say this, but he does. “You don’t have to sleep in the living room.”

Kurt freezes and gives Blaine a look. 

“I just mean…” he swallows. “I’ve had the bed enough nights. Time to pay my dues. I can take the couch tonight.”

He hops off the bed before Kurt even has the chance to protest. 

“I… um, thanks,” he gives Blaine a shy smile. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Kurt.” He returns the smile—more than just a nicety at this point—and turns around to head to the living room.

He can’t keep the dazed grin off his face when he pulls out his phone to text Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

**New Message: To: Sam I Am  
So…  
Funny thing happened  
Brace yourself  
I don’t think I hate Kurt Hummel anymore**

**New Message: From: Sam I Am  
** _THE TIME MACHINE WORKED!  
I AM A MEET-CUTE MASTERMIND!!!_

**Okay, this conversation is over. I regret bringing it up, BYE**

_No! Blainers, please don’t go!_   
_You have to tell me EVERYTHING!!_

**Like what?**

_Like when’s the wedding?  
I’m kidding.  
Mostly.  
Like what happened?_

**I dunno… we were just. Hanging out, talking. Watching movies, playing battleship  
He’s not the villain I made him out to be, I think   
He’s just a person**

_Oh?_

**A really cute and funny person…**

_OH!?_   
_You totally like him now, don’t you?  
Wow, all it took was a global pandemic?_

**Shut up.  
I’m not even going to get my hopes up  
Fool me once**

_I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know what that saying means (you know how I get with idioms or whatever) and honestly shame on you for even assuming I’d know_

**It means that Kurt doesn’t like me**

_You don’t know that_

**Let’s call it an educated guess based on past experiences.  
And you don’t know that he *does* so**

_Bitch  
Do you know who my girlfriend is?  
That’s nothing a little snooping can’t fix_

**Sam…**   
**Sam, whatever you’re thinking of doing, DONT**

_Good news, I don’t think. I ACT!_

**SAM EVANS**

_God, this is SO much more entertaining than anything on Netflix right now_

* * *

**New Message: From: Mercedes 💞  
How have you and Blaine been getting along?**

**New Message: To: Mercedes 💞  
** _Well we HAD been avoiding each other for a few days_

**But..?**

_But that’s a little hard to do in close quarters  
…  
We actually had a good time tonight  
He’s a sweetheart, really_

**Oh, wow.**

_What?_

**Nothing… just never thought I’d hear you say that about Blaine**

_Why do you continually insist that I’m this stubborn headed fool?_

**Oh baby boy you so do not want me to answer that  
Drunk Jenga  
The ENTIRETY of sophomore year  
That time you insisted arugula was a classical instrument  
I could do this for hours**

_… okay you’ve made your point  
I’ve suppose I’ve just had a change of heart_

**Go on**

_I guess I always painted him as an asshole in my mind for ditching me  
And…_

**And???**

_Like I said, he’s hot  
SWEET!  
I meant sweet  
Typo!!_

**Boy, do not even act like those two words make even remotely the same shape on the keyboard  
But the guy’s cute, I’ll give you that  
So… do you like him?**

_I mean, I definitely don’t dislike him…_

**You, Kurt Hummel, are an expert at deflection**

_Did you change your Facebook profile pic?_

**BOI**

_Fine.  
I think I maybe possibly might like him a teeny tiny bit   
But something tells me it’s one sided, since ya know  
He peaced out halfway through out first date_

**Something tells me the odds are in your favor**

_Okay cryptic Effie_   
_Btw, hope you’re staying safe_

**You too, love**

_I’m calling it a night, love you_

**Love you, too  
Have fun in the arena, Kurtniss!**

* * *

**New Message: To: Mercedes (LOML)  
** _So!!!!???  
How’d it go??_

**New Message: From: Mercedes (LOML)  
I don’t know how you managed to rope me into this stupid plan of yours, Sam   
But I think it worked**

_YES!!!!  
I told you! I have an eye for these things   
Like when I said you and I would end up together   
And look at us now_

**Okay will you stop texting me?**

_Wow.  
Ghosted by my own girlfriend. Smh_

**We’re right next to each other!!!  
And you won’t respond to me verbally!**

_It’s about documenting this story_

**Oh my god  
You’re ridiculous   
I love you**

_Love you too! <333_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 12 Days since ive left the house... My brother and I put on sparring equipment and just beat the shit out of each other. It was cathartic.
> 
> Stay healthy, y'all! Stay entertained!

In the morning (which is really closer to noon because college), they decide to make breakfast together because according to Kurt, “It just makes logistical sense. Why use more dishes than necessary making two separate meals?”

Of course, Blaine readily agrees. Because logistics. And the best kind of logistics include getting to know Kurt better. The domesticity of it all is strangely… intimate, and Blaine can’t help but note how normal and natural it all feels, as if every morning was meant to start off this way and… Jesus, Sam would be having a field day if he could see in Blaine’s mind right now.

He’s whisking some pancake batter when he remembers his best friend’s promise of snooping. Yeah, he probably needs to do some damage control on that. 

“You uh, didn’t happen to get a text from Sam last night, did you?” he asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the batter to try and downplay his interest in Kurt’s response. 

Kurt shakes his head, shrugs nonchalantly, and cracks an egg into the pan. “No.” Then he suddenly snaps his head up at Blaine, a little frantic. “Why, did Mercedes text you?”

“Nope,” Blaine says, aware that his response is too quick and voice too high. “I was just curious, that’s all.” He lets out a little sigh of relief and keeps stirring until the muscles in his arm and wrist are exhausted. “How much longer do I have to keep mixing this?” he asks.

“You should be about done, just let me catch up with the eggs.” He gives a little smirk in Blaine’s direction. “Watch this,” he says, and with a flick of his wrist, flips the egg in the pan without even using a spatula.

“Woah!” Blaine goads, visibly impressed. He sets aside the bowl, pulse quickening a little before he asks, “Can you show me?” 

Kurt lifts his head and Blaine is looking into his now vibrant blue eyes (they looked pale green in the dim lighting of the bedroom last night, Blaine remembers, irises wide pools of indigo). The paler boy’s eyebrows lift, just barely. The movement would have gone completely unnoticed if it were anyone else, but Blaine tends to notice everything about Kurt since last night. 

Like how the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window makes his hair a crown of light, dark in the center and almost red at the edges, or how the way his neck curves seems like it could be the perfect place for Blaine to rest his own head, or even trail his lips down.

“Yeah, sure,” Kurt says with a soft smile. He tilts his head to the left, beckining Blaine to come to his side. “Here, take the handle,” Kurt says. Blaine does, and Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine’s, sliding closer and closer until their sides are pressed up against each other, warm and solid.

Blaine’s breath hitches in his suddenly dry throat.

“It’s all in the wrist,” Kurt says, voice low and suddenly quiet. With a quick flick, the egg flips smoothly. He tilts his chin down to look at the slightly shorter boy, but Blaine’s already looking up at him. 

Heat crawls to Blaine’s face at being caught and he quickly turns away, clearing his throat, missing the way Kurt does the same.

“So, my young protégée,” Kurt says banteringly after a moment. “Do you think you're ready to do this on your own?”

“I was born ready.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, taking a step back while Blaine attempts the flip on his own. He hears Kurt stifle a laugh when the egg yolk explodes all over the pan.

“This is so sad…” Blaine begins sarcastically, staring with mock sadness at the mess. “Alexa, play Despacito.”

They both jolt in surprise when a robotic voice responds with,  _ “Playing Despacito by Luis Fonsi from Spotify.” _

The slow Spanish guitar intro comes in and Kurt sputters out a laugh, while Blaine practically squeals with delight at the ordeal.

“Oh my god, ha! I forgot they had one of those here,” Kurt manages through his cackling.

They bob their heads a long while the song plays, Kurt adding some sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes to the eggs while Blaine finishes up the pancakes. It must be on shuffle, because the next  [ song  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12XAqIl06Ag) that comes on is one Blaine loves, but certainly has different vibes than Despacito.

_ Smiles in the morning at me _ _   
_ _ Apartment on the second story _ _   
_ _ Strangers in a brand new city _ _   
_ _ Both remembering last night _ _   
_ _ Kitchen table and a bottle of wine _ _   
_ _ The only thing on my mind is you _

Blaine starts swaying his hips along to the music, feeling the pull of the strong beats in his chest. “Mmm,” he says, shutting his eyes. “Sara Bareilles is a gift. Her music sounds like waking up on a Sunday morning next to the person you love.”

“I love her, but I haven’t heard this one yet,” Kurt admits.

Blaine stacks the last of the pancakes on a plate, then turns to the other boy, extending his hand. “May I have this dance?” He asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

Kurt looks warily at the eggs in the pan. “Just a second, these will be ready in about two minutes.”

Blaine presses a few buttons on the stovetop. “There, timer is set. The rest of the song is only like two minutes anyways,” He wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist, feeling suddenly confident, and tugs him close. “Dance with me?”

“Oh… okay.”

_ The way the moonlight flickered in _ _   
_ _ We were stars of some old classic film with _

_ Miss Simone singing _ _   
_ _ Pour some sugar in my bowl baby _ _   
_ _ In the glow of the candlelight _ _   
_ _ We danced all night _ _   
_ _ On the rooftop thinking _ _   
_ _ No one needs to know a thing _ _   
_ _ But Miss Simone _ _   
_ _ No one but Miss Simone _

As they move along to the song, Kurt snakes his arms behind Blaine’s back, pulling them even closer.

Blaine reciprocates by leaning his head against Kurt’s cheek, right in the crook of his shoulder, and mumbling along to the words.

_ How she'd know _ _   
_ _ What a heart sounds like _ _   
_ _ In the glow of this candle on a rooftop in the moonlight _

_ Someday when we're old and grey _ _   
_ _ And sifting through our yesterdays _ _   
_ _ We'll pull that memory from its sleeve _ _   
_ _ Play that song of you and me and _

“You have a really nice voice,” Kurt whispers.

“Thanks, I’ve always liked singing. This one time, I even got a whole degree in it.”

Kurt pulls his head back. “No way, me too!” He says teasingly.

They laugh for a second, before Blaine’s looking once again into Kurt’s magnetic gaze. He starts dipping his head in, closer and closer to Kurt as the song plays on.

_ Miss Simone singing _ _   
_ _ Pour some sugar in my bowl baby _ _   
_ _ In the glow of the candlelight _ _   
_ _ We will dance all night _ _   
_ _ On the rooftop thinking _ _   
_ _ No one needs to know a thing _ _   
_ _ But Miss Simone _

The timer goes off just as the song winds down to a close, startling them both. 

In his surprise, Blaine drops his hands from around Kurt’s waist and pulls away.

_ No one but Miss Simone _

“That, uh, that would be the timer,” Blaine mumbles, still staring at Kurt.

Kurt nods in agreement, still looking back as well. “I guess we should serve ourselves breakfast.”

“I suppose we should…”

* * *

They finish making breakfast and eat at the table. They’re both hungry, so it’s quiet for a while, but Kurt notices Blaine stealing glances every now and then—a goofy smile on his face, but there’s something behind his eyes, like a question begging to be asked.

“What?” Kurt finally pries, unable to keep a laugh from bubbling up because… because he’s really loving the way he feels around Blaine right now, bright and giddy in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

“Nothing,” Blaine looks down at his eggs, still grinning. “I just… we have a lot in common, and as it turns out, we get along really well. I guess it just makes me wonder where we went wrong all those years ago.”

“Well for starters, you were fifteen minutes late,” Kurt says, but there’s nothing accusatory in his voice, only banter, like the way you would with an old friend.

Blaine scoffs, but Kurt can tell he's not really offended. “I was taking my final for Ms. July! You try telling that woman you’ve got somewhere else to be on her time. I might’ve been late, but at least I was  _ alive.  _ And I passed with flying colors.”

“Hmm, easy to believe, with those Despacito moves.”

“Laugh all you want, but  _ you _ snapped your fingers at the waiters!” He contests. “The cheesecake is on its way, Kurt, it’s not going to come any faster!” 

“Okay, fair,” Kurt points his fork at Blaine. “You’re not the only one who brought that to my attention and I’ve worked on it... but you ate your salad with a fork  _ and _ knife. Who does that? It was a house salad, there wasn’t even any meat in it!” 

“What was I supposed to do, put an entire cherry tomato in my mouth like some kind of  _ barbarian!?”  _

Kurt has to wipe tears from his eyes and Blaine is silently shaking with laughter. 

Blaine’s eyes are still gleaming when he says, “All that aside, I really,  _ really _ liked you.”

Kurt stays silent for a second, unsure if he wants the answer to the question he’s been wondering for years. He decides that he does. “Then why did you leave? I went to the bathroom and when I came out, you were gone.”

A deep breath, and Kurt finally gets his answer. “I heard you on the phone that night.”

Oh… 

“I won’t lie, Kurt, I had a crush on you for a long time.” Kurt feels his heart flutter at that revelation. “But everyone knew you and Adam were a thing, and I didn’t have a shot. He was older, leader of the Adam’s Apples, obviously.”

Kurt’s stomach twists guiltily, unsettled, because for god’s sake, he’s known Blaine—really  _ known _ him—for five days and he’s already so much more than Adam. So much more caring (he asks questions when something is wrong with Kurt, and doesn’t just ignore him until he gets over it), so much funnier and willing to be a goofball in that way Adam never is because he doesn’t believe in “acting like a child” which usually translates to “having fun”.

But even without Adam as a marker, Blaine is out of this world amazing. 

Kurt feels like an asshole for ever making him feel like he wasn’t.

Blaine sighs and continues. “So, when I heard you two were taking a break, I begged Sam to ask Mercedes to set us up.”

Kurt stays quiet, listening intently and trying to push down the guilt in his stomach.

“I um, thought things were going okay… and then you excused yourself for a really long time. I was worried something had happened, so I went to go check on you, and I heard you. Talking to him.”

Kurt remembers that conversation like it was yesterday, even stronger now, because if it hadn’t happened… would he and Blaine be something more than these weird frenemies?

“No,” he’d demanded that night on the restaurant patio. “We said we were taking a break, and you can’t just take that back because you heard I’m on a date. I let you go on  _ plenty.  _ That’s the point of this break. You were the one who wanted to  _ explore your options.”  _ He had used finger quotes even though he knew Adam I didn’t see him.

“I know, Kurt.” Adam said pathetically. “But I felt sick to my stomach as soon as I heard you were going out with someone else.”

“And you think it was a day in the park finding out from  _ Sebastian _ of all people that you spent the night at his place? You  _ know _ I can’t stand that guy! And he was so smug about it, too… I like this guy, Adam. I don’t know if I should be telling you that, but he’s nice, and sweet, and I didn’t seek him out just to spite you!”

He’d heard a groan on the other end of the line that at the time seemed romantic, but now Kurt realizes was just frustrated because Adam wasn’t getting his way. “I love you, Kurt.”

He gasped. That was the first time anyone besides his family had said those words to him. He feels like an idiot now for believing them.

“I… I love you, too,” Kurt responded. There was a long silence. “Okay. I’ll make up some excuse to get out of this and meet you at your place so we can talk.”

“I um…” Blaine finishes up, bringing Kurt back to the present. “It was just a huge bummer because I really liked you and I felt like you never really gave me a chance. So I went back inside, picked up my coat, and left.”

Kurt reaches across the table to grab Blaine’s hand. “I… I am so sorry, Blaine.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine shrugs dismissively. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

The last thing Kurt expects is for Blaine to actually smile at him—he certainly feels like it’s not a smile he deserves right now—and say, “Well, you’ve got until this quarantine is lifted to make it up to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: whoops shitty chapter is shitty lmaoooo
> 
> The song I included is "Miss Simone" by Sara Bareilles bc she's a god given gift to this world. Her album Amidst The Chaos is EVERYTHING


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: another texting chapter bc i love sam lmao

It’s Blaine who so casually suggests that they share the bed.

“Neither of us should have to deal with that couch ever again,” he’d said, and Kurt was powerless to say no.

So now, Kurt’s hidden under the covers and can’t really see, but he’s pretty certain Blaine is asleep. He quietly reaches out for his phone with one hand and snags it close to him.

**New Message:** **  
** **To: Mercedes 💞** **  
** _ I’m gonna lose it _

**Oh no, are y’all back to hating each other again?**

_ No _ _   
_ _ This is soooo much worse _

**???**

_ We’re sharing the bed _ _   
_ _ He’s so god damned nice that he offered to share the bed with me and that’s a problem because all I wanna do is roll over and kiss him _

**!!!** **  
** **Then do it!**

_ He’s asleep, cedes _ _   
_ _ I’m not trying to be a total creep _ _   
_ _ … _ _   
_ _ Oh _ _   
_ _ Oh god oh fuck _

**WHAT!?**

_ He’s a sleep cuddler  _ _   
_ _ His arm is around my waist _ _   
_ _ Oh my god he’s nuzzling his face into my hair _

**Wait, so that means *you’re* the little spoon?**

_ REALLY? _ _   
_ _ *THAT’S* WHAT YOU TOOK AWAY FROM THIS? _ _   
_ _ Oh my goooooooooood what do I do??? _

**Normally I’d say pray, but I know how you feel about god**

_ If hell is real, I’m there  _ _   
_ _ He’s so adorable I’m gonna melt _ _   
_ _ But also _ _   
_ _ I wish he was awake so I couLD JUST MAKE OUT WITH HIM _

**Then wake him up** **  
** **Problem solved**

_ Ugh but he looks so peaceful  _

**Damn** **  
** **You’ve got it bad**

_ Fuck... _ _   
_ _ I think I do _

* * *

Sunlight comes streaming in through the blinds, slowly dragging Blaine back to consciousness in the morning. He can hear the shower running and Kurt’s phone playing  _ Miss Simone, _ Kurt trying to sing along even though he barely knows the words.

God, what a perfect way to wake up. He sits in this bubble of bliss for a minute before rolling over to check his phone. The message from Sam doesn’t even catch him by surprise.

**New Message:** **  
** **From: Sam I Am** **  
** _ Heard you had a fun night ;) _

**New Message:** **  
** **To: Sam I Am** **  
** **Um, what?**

_ Okay, fine _ _   
_ _ Don’t tell me all about your new bed buddy _ _   
_ _ See if I care _ _   
_ _ I’m kidding you know this is ALL I care about rn!!! _

**What?** **  
** **How did you know?**

_ I have my sources _ _   
_ _ Now spill _

**I mean, nothing happened** **  
** **In real life** **  
** **I did have this awesome dream tho**

_ Oh shit did you change the sheets before Kurt noticed?? _

**What?** **  
** **OH MY GOD NO NOT THAT TYPE OF DREAM** **  
** **I just dreamt that we were…**

_ You dreamt that you were what!?!? _

**You can’t laugh**

_ I can’t make any promises _ _   
_ _ But if I do laugh _ _   
_ _ I just won’t tell you _

**Fine** **  
** **Spooning** **  
** **I had a dream that we were cuddling and I had my face pressed up against his head and I could smell his coconut shampoo and lingering organic hairspray** **  
** **…** **  
** **You’re laughing, aren’t you**

_ No _ _   
_ _ That’s actually super sweet _ _   
_ _ I think I’m gonna get cavities _ _   
_ _ Where is he now? _

**In the shower**

_ Oooooh, scandalous! _ _   
_ _ You should go join him _

**Why are you like this** **  
** **So, I’m not gonna do that** **  
** **I’m probably going to go clean or something to keep my mind off Kurt** **  
** **But I’ll keep you updated on my tragic infatuation!**

_ You better! _

**Bye, love you, you moron** **  
** **Make good choices**

_ No promises _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: uhhh, my bad i lowkey forgot about this fic bc when i dont have a routine my brain just sort oif gets all out of whack lmaoooo. Shoutout to that anon on tunblr who was like "so are you gonna update or...????" bc that gave the the reminder and motivation to get to this next part lmao THANK YOU STRANGER!!!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Kurt runs his hands through his hair, shaking off the last suds of his shampoo out of it before shutting off the water. Sara Bareilles’s voice is still leading him to thoughts about Blaine, and how he led him in the dance yesterday with the gentle swing of his hips. 

It had been nice, to say the least. Dancing with Blaine in his arms had felt like he’d finally found the missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for his whole life. Waking up next to a still sleeping Blaine should’ve been awkward, but only felt like the most normal thing in the world, a routine that was way too easy to settle into and—

Shit.

He is in way too deep and he hasn’t even  _ kissed  _ Blaine yet. 

_ Woah, yet? That’s a little presumptuous of you, isn't it?  _

_ If _ he’s going to. If Blaine even  _ wants _ him to.

Kurt needs to stop thinking about Blaine ASAP, but his brain has made it clear that that’s not quite an option at the moment, so instead, he just turns the cold knob on the shower.

He heads to the kitchen when he’s done, and he’s met with the sight of Blaine humming along to  _ Despacito _ while he finishes cleaning the dishes they’d used for dinner last night. Kurt can’t keep from cracking a smile.

“Having fun?”

Blaine, obviously a little surprised by Kurt’s presence, lifts his head and his mouth twitches up into a grin. “Actually, yeah. I used to hate doing the dishes when I was a kid, but then I got this job at a fast food pizza place. I realized that as long as I was washing dishes, I didn’t have to deal with customers. It sort of pavloved me into liking it.”

“God, that's such a mood.”

“The other explanation is that I’m training to be a fifties housewife.” Blaine shakes his head and makes a face, placing a plate on the drying rack. “Sorry, that was dumb,” he mutters.

“No, it was funny,” Kurt raises an amused eyebrow. “And if we’re going by the fifties’s standards, I suppose that makes me the workaholic husband.”

“Well, have fun at work, honey!” Blaine calls out, face twitching up into a grin as he holds back a chuckle.

Kurt walks up to the door as if he’s going to head out (which, they both know he can’t actually  _ do _ ) and pulls a coat still hanging on the rack by the frame of it. He drapes it over himself and waves to Blaine. “I will, make sure to pick up the kids early from school today!”

“Oh yeah, little Feta has a soccer tournament this afternoon, doesn’t he?”

“Feta?” Kurt raises an eyebrow. 

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah, like fettuccine Alfredo? Alfredo is a valid name.”

“Okay, if you get to name our son that then I’m naming our daughter Audrey, as in Audrey Hepburn.”

“I support that.”

“Now that our kids have proper names, I suppose I should be getting to work, huh?” Kurt asks. “Those taxes aren’t going to file themselves. And I have a long commute from here to the computer.”

He turns to leave, but Blaine laughs and quickly grabs the nearly empty box of cereal on the table and holds it out towards Kurt. “Wait! Don’t forget your briefcase!”

“Silly me! How could I forget, thank you!”

Kurt doesn’t even think about it—he’s too into this strange and weirdly fun game they’ve set up. As Blaine hands him the cereal box in lieu of a fake briefcase, Kurt tucks it underneath his arms and leans forward to press a quick peck to Blaine’s lips. Blaine reciprocates, lightly placing a hand behind Kurt’s neck. 

It isn’t until they pull away that Kurt  _ realizes _ what he’s done.

They go absolutely still for a moment, eyes locked, neither daring to move any closer or further from the other.

Kurt wonders for half a second if he accidentally crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

And then the next half of the second Blaine’s lips are on his, hands grabbing desperately at his waist, so sudden and intense that the momentum sends them stumbling backwards a little. They don’t stop until Kurt’s back hits the table, and he sinks his hand into Blaine’s satin soft curls. 

The gesture elicits a small gasp from Blaine, who slides his hands down Kurt’s back and tugs so that their bodies are flush against each other’s. Kurt reciprocates, pulls him closer, kisses him harder until they’re just this chaotic bundle of bumping noses and roaming hands.

They finally pull away, Kurt’s blue eyes wide as a prairie because he had wondered if Blaine was picking up on the same thing he was and… well, he certainly doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, shaking his head with a sheepish smile on his face. “I uh, don’t know what came over me.”

Kurt doesn’t hesitate to pull Blaine back in for another embrace. “Me neither,” he breathes. And in all honesty, he doesn’t really care. All he knows is that this quarantine thing just got a lot more bearable. 

* * *

“I don’t think you’re playing this right.”

“Nonsense, I used to play this every day at lunch with the New Directions. Cards were easily the best way to pass the time. Santana even showed us this one game called Chingasos… which is surprisingly violent for a card game…”

After making out for… quite a long time (like, a really,  _ really _ long time, not that Blaine’s complaining), they’d set some blankets down in the living room floor and exchanged card games. 

Kurt is currently sitting across from Blaine, cross legged and explaining the rules of Spits as they play. There are two piles, and the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards by placing them on top of either pile, but only in numerical order. If both piles have the same number card, you could slap the top of the piles, say “spits”, and the opponent would have to take all the cards.

They both place 2s on either piles of cards, and Blaine jumps to press his hands flat on top of them. Kurt has been playing this game for years, though, and is too quick for Blaine, so his hands land on top of Kurt’s instead of the cards. 

“Eat ‘em and weep,” Kurt says with a cocky grin, shoving the pile of cards towards Blaine.

“Isn’t it  _ read _ ‘em and weep?”

“You’re stalling.”

Blaine mocks a scoff, mostly because he is. “Are you implying that I’m causing a distraction in order to prevent my loss?”

“Okay, nobody talks like that, you’re definitely stalling.”

“No,  _ this _ is stalling,” Blaine says. He tugs Kurt’s hands and rolls backwards on the blankets, pulling Kurt on top of him and leaning up to kiss him and abandoning their card game. He can feel the smile in Kurt’s lips and can’t contain a grin of his own. 

When they finally release each other, Kurt lets out a contented sigh and rests his head on Blaine, draping his arms over his body, fitting in in every space Blaine didn’t even know was waiting to be filled.

“This is gonna sound weird, and kind of random… but I feel really safe with you,” Kurt says.

Kurt’s head, resting on Blaine’s chest, lifts when he laughs. 

“Heard that, coronavirus?” he jokes. “Actually,” he continues, starting to absentmindedly trace shapes on Kurt’s back with his finger. “It’s funny that you say that, because you kind of make me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.” He realizes that may not have come out exactly as he wanted it to. “I mean, like, in a good way. Not in a  _ I’m worried you’re going to push me off _ way.”

“You’re probably just about the only person I can stand in a ten mile radius, currently, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“What about Adam?” Blaine finds himself asking. His heart is a canon in his chest, and he wants to pretend he doesn’t know why he asked that question, but he knows exactly why. 

He’s falling fast and hard for Kurt, and if he runs back to Adam the moment Blaine stops being his only choice,  _ again,  _ it’s going to  _ suck.  _ He’s heard stories about people who got stuck in elevators for twelve hours and then eloped the second they were rescued. And then the inevitable divorce that followed.

Blaine doesn’t want Kurt to want him because he’s bored; he wants Kurt to want him the same way he wants Kurt. 

“Adam and I over for a reason,” he finally replies calmly. 

The urge to just stupidly blurt out  _ Which is?  _ is so strong, and Blaine’s honestly surprised he doesn’t. Apparently, though, his silence is enough of a cue for Kurt to continue.

“I—and feel free to stop me… if it gets too weird or too–if you don’t want to hear this.”

“You can say anything to me,” Blaine answers without hesitation. Kurt’s cheeks pressing harder against Blaine’s chest tell him that he’s smiling.

“Okay… I think I just got swept up in the idea of finally being in a relationship, or of finally having someone who wanted me that I didn’t care if we weren’t necessarily right for each other. I mean, at the time I certainly didn’t have enough experience to know that it wasn’t right.”

Blaine hummed in encouraging agreement, urging Kurt to keep going.

“I think we were both hoping the other would evolve into the person we wanted them to be, if that makes sense. Like, I’m… I’m pretty naturally guarded. I don’t always wear my heart out on my sleeve and I think that bothered him.”

Blaine nods. Though he doesn’t feel like Kurt is particularly withholding around him, he can see why people would think that. Kurt has told Blaine all about what he endured during high school. That would be enough to make anyone a little wary of the world.

“And I don’t know if there are just parts of me I wasn’t willing to share because I’d be sharing them with him,” Kurt continues. “But there were parts of my life—little things, I’m not in like organized crime or anything—that were  _ just _ for me. I’m fairly social, but if I needed an hour alone after he had friends over, he took it really personally.

“On the other hand, I always thought he took life way too seriously. Every single show or song we listened to had to have some sort of profound deeper meaning or else he labeled it as trash. What an exhausting way to live!”

Blaine chuckles. “I know what you mean. I dated Sebastian for a while, and he would  _ constantly _ talk about his summer trips to Europe, which was interesting at first but after a few weeks I realized that that seemed to be the entire focal point of his personality.”

Kurt laughs. “Yeah…”

“Anyways, you were saying?”

“Oh, right... well, back in December I was watching  _ When Harry Met Sally _ with Rachel and it was that scene where Sally says “We never do fly off to Rome at a moment’s notice”. And I just… realized. I went to get things from his place that night and applied to live in the NYADA dorms again for the next semester.

“I guess it was just never right with Adam. It took me way too long to figure it out. I think I might’ve figured it out sooner if we’d finished our date,” he mumbles absently, like he’s just thinking out loud.

Blaine has to bite his cheek to keep from smiling so damn hard.

They lay in easy silence for a moment, holding each other until a high pitched tinny noise interrupts them. Kurt whips out his phone and Blaine sees the Snapchat notification.

“Oh my god,” he sputters out incredulously.

“They really made a Quarantine filter,” Kurt says in awe.

Kurt unlocks his phone and presses the button to access the filter. It’s greyscale, with a blinking red dot in the corner, like it’s supposed to mimic a found footage movie. At the bottom of the screen is written “Day ___ of Quarantine”.

“Come on, let's take a picture,” Kurt says, casually hiking an arm behind Blaine’s neck and settling his head higher up in Blaine’s chest. He quickly snaps the picture of them cuddled up together.

Blaine watches Kurt, grinning when he types out the caption in two separate blocks of text.

_ Do you have your quarantine buddy?  _

_ Yes, I have my quarantine buddy. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 8 (+ Mini interlude i thought of after reading Reeni’s comment, thank you!)  
> brief warning for mentions of what happens in Bash

_ Interlude _

**QueenJCedes replied to your story!**

Kurt bites back a dopey grin when he opens Mercedes’s snapchat message. It’s a photo of her looking dubiously at the camera, a single eyebrow pointed up, with the caption:  _ Quarantine buddies, huh? _

He snaps back a quick photo of himself, eyes rolled upwards.  _ What can I say, he won me over. _

She sends back just a message this time—

_ Mercedes: Yeah, clearly. _ _   
_ _ Mercedes: Head over feet, Alanis style! _

—and then a  [ bitmoji ](http://saporitochiropractic.blogspot.com/2018/) of Kurt falling through the air.

_ Kurt: I mean… You’re not wrong _ _   
_ _ Kurt: He’s sort of everything _ _   
_ _ Kurt: AND a fantastic kisser _

_ Mercedes: OMG REALLY? I was just teasing, but if this is legit, I’m so happy for you!!! _

He can’t help but giggle excitedly as he types a reply. 

_ Kurt: Yeah. me too. _

* * *

**New Snap from setroutymouth**

Blaine rolls his eyes but still can't school the smile on his face into a neutral expression. This is going to be a lot, he already knows, but nevertheless, he swipes his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone.

Sam’s pacing through Mercedes’s childhood home in Ohio, phone in selfie mode, already rambling at a hundred miles a minute that Blaine’s sure he cut off a few words.

_ “—cedes just showed me Kurt’s snapchat story and I AM LOSING IT! Did something happen between you two? Oh my god, something totally happened, didn’t it!? BLAINE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED MERCEDES WON’T TELL ME AND I ALREADY FINISHED EVERY BINGABLE SHOW ON NETFLI—” _

As expected, it was a lot. But still not enough to burst his happy little bubble. He doesn’t think anything could, at this point.

Through his smiles, he snaps back a picture of himself shrugging, trying to look as clueless as possible, and adds the caption:  _ I have no idea what you’re talking about. _

It’s not even a full moment before he gets another video back.

_ “BLAINE ANDERSON I AM BEGGING YOU—” _

Blaine locks his phone shut, mostly because he knows it’ll drive Sam crazy. He can respond later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.

* * *

**_Part 8_ **

Blaine’s in the kitchen, putting away what was left of the carton of Cookie Two-Step ice cream they’d demolished while watching another Netflix romcom, when Kurt’s phone lights up.

**New Message:** **  
** **From: Adam** **  
** **I saw your sc story** **  
** **You know you could just be *my* quarantine buddy** **  
** **When are you coming?**

Kurt  _ actually _ growls as he types out a reply. How did he put up with this for nearly three years?

**New Message:** **  
** **To: Adam** **  
** _ I’m not. _

**Kurt.** **  
** **We both know how this ends.**

_ Not this time. _ _   
_ _ I meant it. We’re done. _

**Okay, whatever you say** **  
** **I’ll check in with you later** **  
** **When you change your mind**

Kurt doesn’t even warrant that with a response, he’s too seething mad to even formulate one with enough bite to put Adam in his place.

But then the door opens, Blaine’s beaming at him, and Adam is completely irrelevant.

“I was just thinking,” Blaine muses aloud, slipping under the covers and snuggling up next to him in a way that Kurt knows will be  _ way  _ too easy for him to get used to. “Do you remember our Junior year when we had to partner up during Stagefighting for that Musical Choregraphy project?”

Kurt explodes into laughter. “Uh, yeah, that was pretty ridiculous. I remember hearing from Matthew that you said I dance like a pigeon that’d been chewed up and spit out by a cat.”

“What!?” Blaine exclaims, shocked. “I swear I never said that. Though, I do remember going on a tangent about how I didn’t know how I was supposed to concentrate when you insisted on wearing those pants with that tight fitted shirt and…”

He trails off, and Kurt can feel color rising to his cheeks. “Oh, that explains it, actually.”

“Explains what?”

“Matthew. He had a huge crush on you.”

Blaine’s eyes double in size. “He  _ what!?” _

Kurt lets out a chuckle. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Nobody told me!”

“That’s not how crushes work, Blaine,” Kurt says through a stream of giggles. 

“Okay, why does it make more sense for me to just take a wild guess about how people feel about me instead of them telling me, or acting on it? Like, if you hadn’t have kissed me earlier, I would have never known how you felt and kissed you back.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue that logic, but… he seriously cannot get over how oblivious Blaine is. “So you’re saying that if I hadn't accidentally kissed you then you  _ really  _ wouldn’t have known how I feel?”

“Yeah. And I would most definitely not have acted on my crush.”

“Aw,” Kurt teases. “You used to have a crush on me. That’s embarrassing.”

“And you watch too much Parks and Rec.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you again, now,” he announces.

Blaine just grins, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”

There wasn’t much of a choice because of the shelter in place, but based on the bright spark forming in his chest when their skin meets, Kurt could definitely get used to this living situation.

* * *

Blaine finally pulls away reluctantly. If he could stay attached to Kurt forever, stay connected to him, he would. He roams his eyes over Kurt’s face, like he could memorize it if he really, really tried, and notices a scar just above his eyebrow. It would be invisible to anyone else, anyone who wasn’t trying to intentionally map out the image of Kurt.

The scar doesn’t bother Blaine, but the idea that someone ever hurt Kurt bad enough to leave physical evidence that refuses to leave tugs achingly at his heart. Instinctively, he takes his hand from where it rests on the side of Kurt’s face, and gently traces over the scar with the pad of his index finger soothingly, as if it hasn’t been healed for years.

“Sophomore year… two years ago,” Kurt’s murmuring refocuses his attention.

That was a hazy time for Blaine, but he does have a vague memory of hearing from a friend of a friend that Kurt spent some time in the hospital, and he definitely remembers his rival-slash-partner being missing from their stage acting class for a while.

“What happened?” He asks.

Kurt is so calm, so steady when he answers. It leaves him in awe. “It was when all those gay bashings were happening…” he pauses, and Blaine immediately feels sick to his stomach because he knows where this is heading. “I was on my way home from school and saw these guys attacking some teenager, and… I had to help. I ran over and started shoving them, I guess. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but the kid got away. I didn’t. The last thing I remember after that was what I think might’ve been a brick hitting my head.”

“Jesus,” Blaine breathes. His initial reaction is to say  _ I’m sorry, _ but something tells him that Kurt isn’t sorry about it at all. Instead, he says, “I had no idea. That–that was really brave of you.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad  _ you  _ think so. I spent most of my hospital stay being berated by my dad about how irresponsible it was.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “If anything it was  _ over _ -responsible.”

“I’m not convinced that’s a word.”

“Me neither,” Blaine says breathlessly, amber gaze fixed on the boy lying across from him.

He really just can’t help but pull them together again. 

Blaine thinks Kurt is opening his mouth to deepen the kiss and, well, he’s certainly not going to complain. Until Kurt sucks in a deep breath and turns his head, chuckling through his yawn.

“Sorry, I really thought I could hold that yawn in.”

Blaine lets out a laugh of his own and glances over at the analog clock on the nightstand. “It’s only midnight, you grandpa,” he teases.

“Hey! Doing nothing all day is seriously draining.”

“I wouldn’t call what we did  _ nothing,”  _ Blaine says cheekily, causing Kurt to flush.

“I’m going to shower before I head to bed,” Kurt responds, sitting up and lifting his arms up over his head and exposing an inch or so of his midriff.

Blaine is trying  _ so hard _ not to stare. Nevertheless, he can’t help it as he watches Kurt saunter off to the restroom. 

He tosses his head back onto the pillow with a satisfied grin on his face. Global crisis it may be, but if he got Kurt Hummel out of it… he could complain about worse things.

A bright  _ ding _ from his right interrupts his thoughts. Blaine turns his head and sees the screen of Kurt’s phone light up, resting there on the nightstand.

He’s not snooping. He’s really not. It’s just sort of  _ instinct  _ to look in the direction of the sounds.

Then, he sees the succession of messages that make his stomach churn.

**New Message:** **  
** **From: Adam** **  
** **Hurry and finish up with the rebound already** **  
** **I miss you** **  
** **Text me when you’re on your way**

He stares at the screen for a few seconds before it fades back to black, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. Of course Kurt was going to run back to his ex the first chance he got. It’s exactly what he did three years ago and Blaine was just kidding himself. This was all too good to be true.

Turns out it wasn’t.

Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his duffel bag and dialing Quinn’s number. 

He’s always welcomed there and New Haven isn’t all that far, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: whoops my finger slipped and its angsty now lol jk y'all know i'd never leave you with an unhappy ending :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What’s up y’all, here it is, the ~thrilling~ conclusion to this little fic. (hah, it only took a month for me to crank out this compost huh? lol) Just wanna say I appreciate all your comments and reblogs and support and this has been super fun! Stay safe everyone :)

“Alright,” Kurt says, fluffing his hair dry with his towel as he walks out of the bathroom. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think we should try our luck and venture into the realm of horror movies. I’ve heard  _ Annabelle: Creation  _ is really good but I never—”

His gaze falls on the empty bed and the bottom of his stomach  _ drops _ out beneath him.

“Blaine?” he calls out cautiously, as if speaking too loudly and breaking the stillness hanging in the air will jinx it all. Like if he stays quiet enough, doesn’t quite let himself believe what he suspects, then Blaine will just walk through those doors.

After a moment frozen, he runs to the kitchen/living room area because Blaine is probably there, lying down underneath the fort they made, or maybe he went back for some of that ice cream, or maybe he’s just looking for another board game but he can’t be gone.

Not when Kurt  _ just  _ found him. Not when they just found  _ each other. _

Blaine’s not there, and Kurt scrambles for his phone and god  _ dammit _ he’s never quite sure where he leaves it, and it’s times like these, when it matters, that he knows he needs to break that bad habit. 

He finally finds it, and relief momentarily floods his system. He doesn’t know why the hell Blaine left, but he dials his number, anxious to find out. 

* * *

Blaine’s almost to the tunnel when his phone starts ringing, connected to his car’s Bluetooth. 

_ “Incoming call from Kurt Hummel,”  _ the automated voice says.

Dread knots up in his stomach, and he’s not sure if he wants to have this conversation, but… he can’t snuff out the last bit of hope telling him that maybe Kurt is calling for a good reason.

With a slow breath, he hits the answer button.

“Hey,” Kurt’s voice immediately says, sounding like he’s trying too hard to keep his voice bright and perky. “Um. Where'd you go?”

“I… took off.”

“Oh,” it sounds almost like a question. “Where… uh, where are you going?”

“I’m going to wait out this quarantine thing with Quinn, over in New Haven. She’s got a house she’s renting until she graduates…”

“Can I ask why?” Kurt asks, and Blaine can tell he’s trying to be gentle, trying to stay calm and not panic.

After a moment of silence, Blaine answers. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” he admits.

Kurt’s voice is tight on the other end. “Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be this invested in someone who’s wishing they were with someone else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw Adam’s messages to you. I wasn’t going through your phone or anything, but it lit up and they were  _ there _ and it  _ sucked,  _ okay? I like you, Kurt… I like you too much to be a rebound. Because I know what I feel—what I feel is real.”

“Oh my god, no.” Kurt cries desperately. “Those aren’t—it’s not what it looks like at all. You’re not a rebound, Blaine. God, I’m going to sound so stupid… because… because not even a week ago we hated each other and… you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

The anticipation builds, buzzing just underneath Blaine’s skin. “Try me.”

Kurt swallows. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Blaine feels his heart stop in his chest, like someone just slammed on his breaks. He hears Kurt sob on the other end and he knows—he  _ knows _ how hard it is for him to admit something like that.

“Christ, three years and I never— _ never,  _ Blaine—felt as much or as deeply as I did in these past few days with you. And we haven’t even really been doing much of anything, so I know I’m not getting swept up in a grand gesture or something superficial or just the idea of a relationship. I don’t need dinner and a show, or ice skating and hot chocolate, or a night out on the town. I just need  _ you. _

“And whatever Adam might think—whatever he said in those messages, means  _ nothing _ to me. Not compared to you. You can go to Quinn’s if you want, but… but I would really love it if you came back to Cornelia street…”

Blaine doesn’t say anything, he’s busy processing everything Kurt just told him. Each word had silenced every fear he ever had that Kurt wasn’t as invested in this as he was. Now, he was just left with all this emotion, bursting inside him like fireworks but coming out through his eyes as tears because this… this was happening.

“Please, say something, Blaine,” Kurt’s shaking voice pleads.

He’s suddenly reminded, in the midst of all this emotion, that he has to actually respond. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he says. The first thing that comes to his mind. “I feel the same…”

He hears the smallest of gasps on the other end—a sign of relief, or maybe gratitude. 

Then, Blaine says, “I’m turning around.”

He hears a watery laugh on the other end of the line. “You know,” Kurt says. “When this whole quarantine thing is over, we should really go on a proper date.”

* * *

**Epilogue**

“Sam is gonna lose it.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to rub it in my face for years to come.”

“Probably. But it’s been  _ weeks,  _ Blaine! I want people to know we’re together. Particularly that one overly friendly guy on Facebook who has a  _ lighthouse _ as his profile pic.”

“He’s just a harmless flirt. He’s like that with everybody.”

“Yeah, well I’d appreciate it if he wasn’t  _ like that  _ with the guy I love… What? Why are you looking at me like th— _ mmph!” _

“...”

“… not that I’m complaining, but what , might I ask, brought that on?”

“I love you, too, Kurt.”

“Oh…  _ oh! _ I… I did say that, didn't I? I hope you know I meant it, too.”

“I do… Why don’t we go log on now?”

“Yeah, let's do that… and then maybe watch another cheesy Netflix original?”

“That sounds  _ perfect.” _

“Sam really is gonna lose his mind.”

* * *

**_Kurt Hummel updated his relationship status_ **

**_Blaine Anderson updated his relationship status_ **

When Mercedes gets the notifications on her phone, the sound of Sam yelling,  _ “Baaaaaaaaaaabe!!”  _ at the top of his lungs doesn’t exactly come as a surprise.

She does startle, though, when he comes sprinting back into the bedroom and leaps into the bed like an over excited golden retriever, draping his torso over hers.

“Did you see!?”

She can’t help but smile at his excitement. “I saw.”

He presses a quick kiss against her lips. “Are you gonna say it now?”

She rolls her eyes, but a deal is a deal.

“Sam Evans is a Meet-Cute Mastermind.”


	10. Bonus Chapter: I Want Your Midnights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh look aly’s adding a one shot in the verse she based off a Taylor Swift song and no one is fucking surprised. 
> 
> Just a little look into how Kurt and Blaine from this verse are doing
> 
> Enjoy :)

Although March crawled by at a snail’s pace, graduation comes and goes in the blink of an eye. So does the Fourth of July. Time feels like kinetic sand disintigrating between Kurt’s fingers—malleable, hard to get a grip on, and most importantly, fucking weird.

It’s hard for Kurt not to feel the ache of a wasted summer resound in his chest. This was supposed to be his last summer before going into the real world—his last chance to be as reckless as he allows himself to be (which, granted, isn’t much, but he would have still liked to have the opportunity). 

Any time his traitorous brain starts to dwell on what he lost, he just looks over at Blaine—usually leaned on the couch with one leg tucked underneath him as he strums mindlessly at his guitar—and reminds himself that if it weren’t for this pandemic, he never would have found the best thing in his life. 

Come fall, Sam and Mercedes need their apartment back, and Kurt and Blaine are thrust into a turning point in their relationship. The decision may be a tad rash, but Kurt doesn’t have any regrets when he and Blaine move in together. Although he’s excited, it’s a hair bittersweet to say goodbye to the space where they fell in love.

Living in close quarters with  _ anyone  _ for so long would have driven most people insane. There were most definitely moments where Kurt nearly lost his mind, most notably when Blaine ordered a sodastream off of amazon and tried to fizz every eligible liquid in the apartment. 

Another less comic instance involved Kurt getting a drunken phone call from Adam. Blaine had been quieter than usual that week, and Kurt was starting to get tiny cuts on his feet from all the eggshells he was constantly walking on.

“It’s not my fault he called me!” Kurt had exploded, after a disagreement about who had forgotten to unload the dishwasher had escalated into a rather immature blame game.

He’d only gotten a confused, hurt look from Blaine back. “I—what? No, I know that.” 

Kurt hadn’t even realized the lump in his throat he’d been fighting until then. “Then why—why does it feel like you’re mad at me? I feel like we haven’t been talking and I just… I don’t know why.”

“Jesus, Kurt, no. I’m so sorry, no. I’m sorry for being distant lately. I’ve just been really in my head about the whole thing and I’m not mad or-or upset with you or anything. I just…” 

Blaine had hesitated, and Kurt cradled his tear tracked face in his hands. “Talk to me.”

“I just don’t want you to choose him over me, again.” 

Kurt had kissed him, furious and truly  _ meant,  _ until he tasted tears and weren’t sure whose were whose. “I choose you,” he mumbled against Blaine’s lips. “For now, and forever more, I will always choose you. 

“And I’m sorry for blowing up at you,” Kurt apologized, tightening his arms around Blaine’s neck. “I shouldn’t have assumed your feelings. We can’t let this happen again. I hate feeling like I can’t talk to you. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won’t,” Blaine promised. “We’ll get better at this. I promise.”

And they do. 

* * *

  
  


The country’s constant see-saw of lockdown and re-opening make it hard to stay faithful to plans for going home, but they do manage to self-isolate for two weeks before heading back to Ohio for Thanksgiving. It’s small, intimate, but Kurt breaks down crying the second his dad opens the door and welcomes both he and Blaine home.

Plans to head to Blaine’s parents’ for Christmas are tarnished when the temp receptionist job Blaine had taken decided to re-open for in-person business halfway through December. Masks were to be worn at all times and of course, social distancing was in place, but they knew they couldn’t risk it. Blaine’s aunt was still living with his parents, and no matter how careful they were, they would be running the risk of bringing something back to her.

All Kurt can do is hold Blaine while he cries. “Twenty-one years and I’ve never had a Christmas without them.” Kurt squeezes his arms around Blaine tighter, lamely unable to come up with a comforting response.

Life in these pandemic times are trying and tiresome, but the hardest hurt to feel is the one that belongs to someone you love.

* * *

“We’re not gonna make it!” Kurt cries, running down the hall of their apartment complex, towards the elevator. 

“Shit,” Blaine mutters before abruptly juking and turning around. “I forgot my guitar, I’ll be right back! Hold the elevator!”

“What do you need your guitar for?” Kurt calls back. 

“Ambiance,” Blaine deadpans.

“Blaine, we’re not gonna make it!”

“We’ll make it, we still have,” he checks his watch, “two minutes.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, a smile still fixed on his face, but heads to the elevator and presses the button for the top floor.

As always, Blaine slips inside the elevator just in the nick of time. “Told you we’d make it,” he remarks with a beaming grin. 

“That statement still stands to be proven,” Kurt points out. “It’s 11:59.”

The elevator lurches upward and Blaine swings his head to give Kurt a fond look.

“Hey,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Happy New Year.”

The smile on Kurt’s face is automatic, as he can hear the undertone of I love you in Blaine’s words. “Happy New Year.”

Finally, their ride comes to a stop, and the elevator doors slide open.

The freezing December air whips across Kurt’s face, but the cheap champagne they’d sipped earlier keeps his face flushed and warm enough. EIther way, the sight that greets them is enough to keep him distracted.

On all sides of the city, bright reds and golds and greens illuminate the night sky, signaling midnight’s arrival. The  _ boom  _ that accompanies each firework exploding like tiny stars reverberates in Kurt’s chest, sending signals to the rest of his body.

In his awe, Kurt doesn’t even realize Blaine has pulled out his guitar and started gently picking at the strings until his voice comes in.

_ Should auld acquaintance be forgot _ _   
_ _ And never brought to mind? _ _   
_ _ Should auld acquaintance be forgot _ _   
_ __ And days of auld lang syne?

Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s shoulder, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. He knows that society’s measurement of time is totally arbitrary, and it doesn’t mean that the world is instantaneously fixed, but god if it doesn’t feel like everything is going to be okay—really, and truly okay. 

This is one of those little magic moments of life that Kurt can hold on to forever. 

With the city on lockdown again, they couldn’t go out or see family or really do much of anything at all. But as they watch the world turn on its axis into better days, Blaine’s velvety voice and beautiful strumming serenading the arrival of 2021, Kurt can’t help but think he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

They made it. 

They came out of 2020 better, stronger, and more together than ever.

If they could do that, well… Kurt’s certain that with Blaine by his side, they can make it through just about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy New Year, yall :)
> 
> we made it <3


End file.
